Feitan - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Gorgeous graces. @raisinripe has done it again..! Phinks has a fabulous costume. 🥰💚🖤💝✨✨ Kawaii and representative. 🌠✨✨

belatedly, but happy halloween to everyone!!!! 🎃👻🍬🦇💀🧡

I feel like this must have happened at some point

╔════x°⊙°x════╗

ғᴇɪᴛᴀɴ ᴀs ᴀ ʙᴏʏғʀɪᴇɴᴅ

╚════x°⊙°x════╝

[18+]

Feitan is possessive and easily jealous.

He does NOT like seeing other people flirt with his partner, and the Spiders will often do so just to get a rise out of him.

Getting him riled up is a one way ticket to a brutal, masochistic fuck session.

He's really into BDSM and vanilla sex isn't exactly his thing.

His partner will probably be covered in hickeys, bruises, bite marks, and other superficial injuries often. He likes marking his territory.

He likes holding hands in public so everybody knows that his partner is his.

Public kisses are a no-go because he refuses to take his bandana off.

He struggles with expressing his love verbally because of the language barrier and this gets him frequently frustrated.

He needs constant reassurance from his partner that he's understood and his words make sense, otherwise he'll shut down and remain silent for a long while.

Dates aren't a regular occurrence.

Unless committing organized crime together counts as a date.

Turning into a popsicle as I’m typing this but that’s not important. Can I request general yandere headcanons with Feitan from HxH

My brain is dead I don’t have anything specific sorry you can ignore if it’s too vague

This request is fine! And yea totally! I feel like he's a yandere permanently, so I kinda toned it down but still made it pretty possessive, I hope that's ok with you.

Feitan would have probably met you when you joined the Phantom Troupe. It would have been a sunny-ish day, the Troupe had all gotten called to help kill and rob some super rich guy. You had joined recently, so only a few people from the Troupe had met you.

You were Hisoka's replacement. It was easy enough to beat him. When Feitan saw you, it was love at first sight. He couldn't take his gaze off of you, and when you spoke, he just about melted. He loved you so much. You were only his.

Any time you get hurt, he'll be fawning over you, with a surprising amount of gentleness. He'd bandage you up so well, it'd be like a doctor did it.

When you two cuddle, Feitan is like a human furnace. He's so warm all the time. If you're a trans man, he's the best person in Hunter X Hunter (in my opinion) for period comfort.

His hands would be basically glued to your abdomen, and he would've picked up that you were starting soon and so he would steal the pain meds you use, chocolate, and everything you need. He'd tell you things like, “You're my handsome boy”, “I love you, pretty boy”, “I know it hurts, I'm here. Tell me if you need anything and don't worry that you're being a bother. I live so you can “Bother” me”.

If you like the sound of his voice, he'll reluctantly talk to you and sing to you more. Though the singing stays completely private and between you two.

If you have sensory issues, he'd be so attentive. You don't like feeling dirty? He killed the owner of this house, and he got your favorite body wash. You hate having calluses? He has your favorite lotion.

If you get overwhelmed with a lot of people, he makes sure you don't get roles that have to do with a bunch of people.

If you are of loud noises, you'll have super good noise canceling headphones.

Basically, he's the most attentive and caring boyfriend, that is, if he loves you enough.

Yandere Feitan request time huehue

I’m the bottemiest bottom to have ever bottomed

I know this mans is clingy as fuck bro he will want you at his side 24/7 if he has to, don’t you dare try to leave he will tie you up and fuck you senselessly to remind you who can actually make you feel good

Be a good boy for Feitan - 🗿

P.s. I’m gay im sorry please feed into this

IM SO SORRY IT TOOL SO LONGG ( ;´ - `;)

Yes, Feitan is clingy. However, I think he'd understand his job is dangerous and keep you far, far away from that side of him. That is, if you aren't a member.

If you are, he'd probably just keep you from getting too close to other members. You aren't allowed to hug them, only him.

He'd always have his hands on you, whether his hands were on the small of your back, holding your waist, holding your hands, or around your shoulders.

If you did start talking to another member more, conscious or not, he would drag you away from them after a while.

No words would be spoken, but you could tell he was mad and disappointed in you. His grip would probably be harder than normal.

Would manhandle you to the nearest bed/couch/anything he can fuck you against.

He'd degrade you and bind you to whatever he's got you against. He'd still be gentle enough not to hurt you but hard enough to bruise you.

He'd barely prep you, then slam into you. Saying things like, “You're such a whore, getting so close to them.” “Decided to slut yourself around? No. I won't fucking allow it. You're mine.” “You're finally deciding to be a good boy? Take your fucking punishment. Then you can stay good for me.”

He also definitely spanks you, using whatever he can.

After your ‘Punishment‘ is done, he'd be back to his clingy self. Praising you and being sweet. Though he'd definitely be more possessive and protective.

“Finally, the brat was fucked out. All you need is a good punishment to stop being so fucking bratty. Now, stay my good boy and we won't have to punish you again.”

phantom troupe negative traits/habits hcs

*i’m aware that being thieves and murderers are already pretty negative traits but this is more related to their personality 😊😊😊

-

chrollo

-unintentionally can sound super sarcastic and condescending

-like if he’s explaining something the cadence of his voice might sound like he’s mocking you, when in reality he just sounds like that

-if you’re in a pissy mood and he’ll ask what’s wrong it kinda sounds sarcastic ?????

-he’ll see you crying and be like:

“are you okay? what’s up?”

and you’ll kinda just be like 🤨🤨🤨 i’m literally crying ???????? what do you MEAN “what’s up?”

-he’ll apologise for sounding sarcastic but he was genuinely asking

-the troupe knows that’s just how he sounds but anyone who doesn’t know him that well just thinks he’s being a prick

shalnark

-literally has zero social awareness

-considering he sees other people as toys, he doesn’t give a single fuck about randos in public

-he’s the type to have a loud conversation on speakerphone on a busy, crowded train filled to the brim with tired people who just got off their 9-5 and want to go home 💔

“hello? yeah, of course i can talk! so today i was-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

“…..anyways so-“

-is always confused as to why people are glaring at him but like i said, he really couldn’t give one

-he also probably sees someone who’s about to doze off or looks visibly irritated and will make it his mission to piss them off as much as possible and strike up a conversation with them

phinks

-extremely sore loser

-if you’re playing a game with him (like mario kart) and he’s about to lose, he will walk away right then and there and quit

-will claim the game is rigged and that’s why he was about to lose (if he wins, he will rub it in and tell you to just improve at the game)

-the troupe audibly groans whenever he asks to join in when they play video games

-one time he unplugged the tv when he lost a game against feitan and shalnark (if he doesn’t win, NOBODY gets to win)

-will claim the other person cheated if he loses

“COME ON!! SHALNARK PROBABLY HACKED THE GAME OR SOMETHING, MAKING ME LOSE!”

“…have you ever considered that maybe you just suck at the game?”

*throws remote at tv*

-just let him win if you want to have a easy breezy life

uvogin

-absolutely zero volume control

-he’s loud in public, but he’s completely unaware how loud he’s being

-this also makes him the worst person to tell secrets to

*pspspspswhisperwhisperwhisper*

“YOU THINK HIS HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE THE MCDONALDS SYMBOL?”

everyone is staring. the man with the weird hairline you tried to whisper to uvo about is staring. you are extremely embarrassed. you want the ground to swallow you whole.

-to add insult to injury, he also points.

-because of this, it’s super easy to tell when he’s talking about you because he will yell AND point

-he doesn’t gaf who hears

shizuku

-the most brutally honest person you’ll ever meet

-doesn’t sugarcoat anything

-it’s not like she wants to hurt your feelings, but she just doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush or lying

-if she thinks you look fat in something, she’ll tell you. if she thinks you don’t suit a certain colour, she’ll tell you. if she thinks your cooking tastes like actual dookie left out to cook in the desert sun, she will not hesitate to tell you.

-she also will not apologise if she hurts your feelings

-“why do i need to apologise for being honest?”

-she is winning the idgaf war 100%

-will probably forget what she said as well, which makes it worse

feitan

-rather than ask to borrow something of yours like a normal person, he will steal it and then proceed to gaslight you when you confront him about it

-makes sense for him due to his ‘thieves take what they want’ mentality

-will have you convinced that your memory is patchy

“feitan where the fuck are are my scissors?”

“beats me.”

“i know you took them.”

“did not.”

“they were on the counter like five minutes ago and you’re the only one in here”

“no they weren’t.”

-this will carry on until you admit you were wrong for accusing him, or you just drop it

-occasionally he will start drama with the other troupe members by stealing their shit (usually phinks) and making it seem like someone else did it

nobunaga

-quite possibly the most indecisive man you’ll ever meet

-you’d much rather prefer to get sentenced to eternal torture at guantanamo bay than have to ask nobunaga what restaurant he wants to go to later tonight

-“my mind will be made up by tonight, i swear!”

-it wasn’t.

-he’s one of those annoying indecisive people who will insist that you choose, but will get mad if you don’t choose the option he secretly sorta preferred

“i can’t decide between place a or b, you choose!”

“place b”

“really? place a looks much more classy”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK PLACE A?!”

-you’re convinced he’s only acting like this to piss you off, but he’s just like that

-in the end, you have to force him to flip a coin or else he wouldn’t get anywhere decision-wise

pakunoda

-she often gets lost in thought and zones out, which results in her unintentionally staring at people for a little too long

-because of her stern resting face (or rbf), it usually comes across as her glaring at you, which feels a lil uneasy, especially if you’re not close with her

-she will apologise profusely when she comes to, but before she does she will just be looking at you like

👁️_👁️

-as well as this, she will sometimes try and touch you to purposefully see your memories if she’s a bit suspicious of you for whatever reason

-if she thinks you’re lying about something for example, she will intrude your thoughts

-she’s not a particularly touchy-feely person so it’s quite amusing to see her try and touch you for seemingly no reason out of the blue

-a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do 🤷‍♀️

machi

-despite being one of the more upfront and mature members of the troupe, she’s also the worst one for holding grudges

-like she will hold a grudge for literal ages

-there are many she’s had for so long that she can’t even remember why she was mad in the first place

-at this point it’s more about keeping a streak than actually being mad

-best case scenario is that she forgets about it altogether or else best believe she will NOT be forgiving you. ever.

-she’s still pissed at the old guy who stepped on her toes by accident two years ago. and the waiter who tripped and dropped the tray on her eight months ago. or the questionable comment hisoka made last week.

-talks about getting vengeance on those she holds grudges against but can’t even remember who they are or what they did

“i swear i will find them, wherever they are, so they will get what’s coming to them.”

“that’s nice and all, but WHO are they and what did they do?”

“….. it’ll come to me soon hold on..”

-feels incomplete without holding a grudge against someone

franklin

-his big ass does NOT look where he’s walking and will bump into anything and anyone

-don’t expect him to apologise tho

-“apologise? maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

-don’t even try to fight him on this

-doesn’t see it as his duty to move out the way, but the duty of those around him

-the absolute NERVE

-the only reason why no one confronts him about it is because he’s tall and big as hell

-don’t die for getting bumped into

bonolenov

-one thing about him is that when he’s mad, he’ll give people the SILENT treatment

-heavy on silent

-could go for centuries if he wanted to

-and trust he’s a pro at keeping it up

-he doesn’t gaf if you’re in danger, he’ll keep on giving you the cold shoulder

-he won’t stop because he feels bad, but because he just can’t be bothered to keep ignoring you

-he will randomly just start talking to you again one day and will act confused if you question why he’s taking to you again after so long

-he won’t apologise for it tho 💯

kortopi

-his minuscule ass is always stepping on everyone’s trotters

-honestly sometimes he does it out of spite and will give look at you like 👁️ if you confront him

-there’s not much to say about him except he will sometimes accidentally sometimes not step on your feet

i fear i’m missing more members but irdgaf rn so enjoy !!!!! also these are fun to write to pls pls pls give me suggestions xoxoxo

phantom troupe: do they snore?

this idea for phantom troupe hcs came to me randomly at 2:00am last night so enjoy xoxo

chrollo

-probably not unexpected but not really

-he’s generally a super quiet sleeper

-the loudest he ever is in his sleep is breathing loudly on occasion

-his lack of snoring is most likely attributed by the fact he’s a very light sleeper

-he’s one of those bitches who will wake up because the whistling of the wind was slightly louder than usual

uvogin

-his ass sounds like a heavy metal concert when he sleeps

-his snores are earth-shaking. ear-splitting. pain-inducing.

-his snores single handedly contribute to noise pollution

-think of how loud your dad snores and x1000

-if the troupe members have to share a room at any point during a mission, they will throw a whole rock paper scissors tournament to see who’s taking one for the team and sacrificing their sleep (it’s usually nobunaga)

-because covering his mouth with a sock doesn’t stop the snoring, the troupe have an emergency weighted blanket on standby

-the complete opposite of chrollo, this man could sleep in an active war zone and and not budge an inch (in other words you cannot wake his ass up by force to get him to stop snoring so the only option is to wait it out or sleep somewhere else)

pakunoda

-the most silent sleeper ever

-not even a peep from miss pakunoda

-the ideal person to share a bed with. she doesn’t snore, her breathing is inaudible and she’s extremely still

-almost unnerving in a way bc she looks dead when she sleeps

-if you were to share a bed with her you’d probably spend most of the night checking her pulse to ensure she is actually alive and breathing

phinks

-he’s one of those people who when he snores the buildup is super loud but he exhales quietly (i hope that makes sense)

-ljke the buildup is super dragged out like hhhHhhhhhhUUUHHHUUUH but the exhale is just hoooooooo !!

-idk how to express snoring via text so you may have to act it out to know what i mean

-honestly this type of snoring is arguably worse than uvogin’s bc at least his is consistent whereas phinks will give you hope that he’s finally stopped snoring until it starts up again ☹️☹️😢

-he will forever deny he snores tho

feitan

-comedic ass snore

-probably snores like mimimimimimimimi zzzzzzzzz 😴💤😴💤😴💤

-he sleeps like he should be wearing a night cap and a long night gown with a candle on his bedside table

-trying not to piss yourself laughing while he’s snoring if you’re still awake is an olympic level sport

-one time shalnark recorded him while he was snoring and showed it to him (when he was down with him, he ensured the recording was eradicated from his phone)

-ik realistically he would probably be a silent sleeper but the idea of him sounding like a whole cartoon character is actually hilarious to me

shalnark

-sleep? WHAT’S THAT? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 (get it because he’s the tech whiz so he probably stays up all night gaming lololololol XDD)

-probably a loud ass mouth breather

-like he sounds like a broken ventilator sometimes

-he sounds like he ran a lap around mt everest before bed why is he so loud

-if you pissed him off during the day he would probably amp up the volume on his breathing to prevent you from sleeping well (now we’re both mad xx)

shizuku

-for the most part very quiet

-occasionally she will jumpscare you awake by randomly snoring out of no where

-like you’ll wake up to this loud ass noise only to realise it was just shizuku

-sometimes she’ll wake up aswell and accuse you of snoring

-aside from that pretty quiet- not as ideal to share a bed with as pakunoda but fine for the most part as long as you don’t mind surprises

nobunaga

-i feel like he’d have one of those super low growly snores ???????

-like those low, shaky ones

-the ones that kinda sound like grunts

-idk if i’m making sense so i pray i am 🙏

-they’re not that bad tho bc they’re quiet enough to not keep you awake and are low-key kinda relaxing

-if you’re gonna share a bed with anyone who snores, it’s nobunaga

machi

-another generally quiet sleeper except for occasionally sighing in her sleep

-from time to time she’ll just go like huhhhhhhhh :// and then will go back to being quiet again

-don’t bring it up the next day tho bc she WILL deny it and seem embarrassed

-you can tell when she’s having a nice dream based on how often she sighs

franklin

-surprisingly quiet

-you wouldn’t expect his oversized enormous ass to be quiet but he is

-similar to chrollo, the most you’re getting out of him is some occasionally loud breathing

-aside from that he’s a quiet sleeper

bonolenov

-i feel like bc of the holes in his body he’d probably make a whistling sound in his sleep

-like a pan flute

-not the worst tho bc like nobunaga it’s low high key relaxing

-free asmr what could be better xxx

kortopi

-quiet as hell

-are we really surprised

-sorry to the two kortopi fans out there but i can’t be bothered to think of anything to add on he’s just quiet

another tazzertopia classic 💯💯💯💯 if you like these hc posts pls give me requests (idk if the ask box is visible on my profile but do it through here or via the comments) bc these are super fun, i can also do other characters too !!! if i do more i might start doing them for other shows anyways bye xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Feitan doodle 🌂🕷

This all happened because of Ging

also idk what happened to uvo’s arms nor palm’s eyes

Hunter x House Oneshot!!!

an imaginative one shot I which the characters of hunter hunter Gon, Killua, Leorio and Kurapika are in a reality tb show with the phantom troupe!todays episode is a sleepover

——————

Interviewer: “So Kurapika, Gon, Leorio, Killua What do you think about today’s impending sleepover with the Troupe?”

Kurapika: “I think it’s bullshit. If that bitch chrollo try’s anything I’ll show him how much of a chain user I can be”

Leorio: “It’ll be interesting to se how it pans out. I just have to keep Kurta under control.” Gon and killua: “WERE GONNA STAY AWAY FROM HISOKA!”

(Next up the interviews with some members of the Phantom Troupe!” Interviewer: “So Uvogin, Nobunaga, and Chrollo what are your thoughts on the sleepover?” Uvogin: : “My thoughts are they’re not gonna have enough food for me.” Nobunaga: “Is it smoke friendly?” Chrollo: “I think it’ll be fun! I’ve changed and is like to befriend kurapika!” —

“Welcome. Welcome. Yes just come inside.” Kurapika said with bated breath. The sleepover time finally came and he was dreading it. “Kurapika, do your best to remain calm.” Leorio whispered into his ear, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “GON~ Where are you~?” Hisoka yelled out. “GON STOP HIDING FROM ME! I have candy~” “GON DO NOT TAKE THE CANDY!” Leorio and Killua yelled out running to find him. .

“Femboy, where’s the food at.” Uvogin asked. Try not to lose my cool. Try not to lose my cool. “Over there on that table. There’s loads.” Seeing uvogin walk over and prepare about three plates as his first course he could help but shout. “Y’all are fucking animals.” “KURAPIKA DON’T CURSE IN FRONT OF THE KIDS!” Leorio yelled form the other side of the house.

“YOU BITCH CLOWN GET AWAY!” He screamed running with gon and killua in his arms over to Kurapika. “Now what was that aboht cursing Leo?” “Fuxk it.” “Nobunaga, did you bring the brownies? “You know it uvo.” He handed him a special brownie. “Hisoka can you chill.” Illumi grabbed his ear dragging him away. Where was chrollo?

“KURAPIKA!!! I’m here I know you missed me.” Chrollo embraces kurapika in a hug getting shoved off. “Get the fuck off me !” “Ooo drama!” Machi and Shizuku whispers to each other. “Rude. BUT kurapika look! I thought it’d be nice to match with you.”

The blond looked to see Chrollo wearing the same Kurta Clan pajamas and he was wearing. “I even made you a card!”

Dear Kurapica: I’m very sorry for everything I’ve done. I hope you forgive me. Let’s be friends? -Signed Chroll.

“OH NO YOU DIDN’T” Kurapika threw a punch at chrollos face, getting held back by gon, killua, and leorio. “Kurapika this isn’t you!” Chrollo pleaded with him. “Why is chrollo trying to be a pick me?” Shizuku whispered to Machi. “I don’t know but it’s hella entertaining.” .

.

Interviews with Chrollo:

“I didn’t know Kurapika would react so badly.” He scoffed. “He even made fun of my spelling, what if I want to be called Chroll? He didn’t even care.” -

Uvogin: “I don’t know what boss thought he was doing. It was hellla entertaining though”

Shizuku: “me and machi already have pics in the gc of Him and Kurapika! We love gossip”

—

“Everybody it’s time for karaoke and games!” Gon called out. “I wanna sit next to gon” hisoka practically moaned out as Illumi dragged him to sit next to him. “I call the seat next to gon first.” Killua added. “Speaking of that, what’s this little brother?” Illumi showed the table a photo, it was GON AND KILLUA KISSING?!?”

“We haven’t even done that!” “Yet, Killua!” “GON YOURE MaAKING it worse.” “My babies are innocent.” Said Leorio and Kurapika. “Okay fine, I edited the photo.” Illumi sighed. “Moving forward, who wants to go first in karaoke?” Kurapika changed the subject.

“ME FIRST~ This goes out to Gon~” hisoka snatched the microphone, and lyrics.

“BaBy YouRe LikE LiGhTNiNg In A BoTtlE I CanT LeT You Go NoW that I’ve got you!!” “killua I’m scared” gon whispered

“OKAY THATS ENOUGH” “But I didn’t get to finish.” Kurapika snatched the microphone away. “Who’s next.” “ME! I’m going to be performing Call me Maybe with Nobunaga.” Uvogin offered. everybody was thinking. “Are they serious?”

Uvogin: “I THREW A WISH IN THE WELL.”

Nobunaga: “Don’t ask me I’ll never tell.”

Uvogin: “I looked to you as it fell, and now you’re in my way!”

Nobunaga: Trade my soul for a wish. Pennies and dimes for a kiss.” Uvogin: “I wasn’t looking for this but now your in my way.”

Unbeknowsnr to the two, practically everybody was recording, and dying laughing as the two High men sang. “Are they high?” Chrollo whispered to kurapika. “Bitch im not talking to you.” “Fine then meanie.”

Nobunaga: “YOUR Stare was holding, ripped jeans skin was showing.”

Uvogin: “Hot night wind was blowing, WHERE YOU THINK YOUR GOING BABY?”

Both of them: “HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY SO HERES MY NUMBER. SO CALL ME MAYBE!”

They finish: “bravo bravo, what a performance!” “WE DID THAT SHIT NOBU!” Uvogin roared. “Hellll yeah! Matter of fact I need another weed brownie.” “Me tooo.” They both run to the counter.

It was going to be a long night

(guys I know it’s bad, it was js a lil funny thing I thought of and didn’t put much effort! Lmaoo

Uvogin x Thief reader!

Here’s Part 1 of Uvogin z Thief Reader!!! It’s an upgrade to a really old fanfic of mine and I’m very happy about it! Gonna be a slow burn but a very well written descriptive story!

——————

You're not the type to back down, are you?" The sly voice echoed through the dimly lit corridor, a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

Y/N, the notorious thief known for her unmatched agility and uncanny ability to vanish into thin air, found herself in a tight spot. Cornered by a group of individuals who were equally adept in the art of theft and deception—the Phantom Troupe.

She had come to the auction hall to pilfer the latest set of rare artifacts, a prize that had eluded even the most skilled hands in the business. But as she held the gleaming treasure in her grasp, she felt the air thicken with the presence of her pursuers.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she recognized the unmistakable aura of Chrollo Lucifer, the leader of the Phantom Troupe. His crimson eyes bore into her as he offered a thin smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, his voice like velvet over a sharpened blade. "But I'm afraid you're in no position to decline my offer." The other members of the troupe emerged from the shadows, their faces a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Y/N, with the artifacts clutched tightly in her bag, took a step back, her mind racing. Join them? Impossible. But she knew better than to underestimate the ruthlessness of the Phantom Troupe. Her options were slim—join or become their next victim.

She met Chrollo's gaze with defiance, her jaw set. "What makes you think I'd ever consider joining a bunch of thugs like you?"

-^1: Y/N, a renowned thief, is caught by the Phantom Troupe at an artifact auction. Chrollo Lucifer, their leader, is impressed by her audacity and offers her a place in the group. Surrounded by the troupe, she considers her options, knowing their reputation for ruthlessness.-

The air in the corridor grew tense as the troupe members exchanged glances. Chrollo's smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. "Ah, a challenge," he mused, "how delightful." He gestured to the burly figure standing behind him, "Take her to the room we've prepared. She'll think it over."

Y/N was marched down the corridor, her hands bound with an unbreakable Nen thread that burned at the slightest struggle. The room they brought her to was surprisingly spacious, with a single bed, a table, and a chair.

The walls were adorned with weapons and trinkets, hinting at its usual occupant's tastes. As the door slammed shut, she looked around, realizing she was to share this space with Uvogin, one of the most feared members of the Phantom Troupe.

Uvogin leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his broad chest, watching her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?" he said, his deep voice rumbling through the space.

Y/N's eyes narrowed as she sized him up. Uvogin was notorious for his brute strength and volatile temperament. But she had a knack for reading people, and she could see the flicker of something else in his gaze—respect, perhaps. Or was it something more?

“It appears we are.”

"Looks like we're bunkmates," Uvogin said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within the very walls of the room. He strolled over to the bed and plopped down, his boots hitting the floor with a thud. "Make yourself comfortable, if you can."

—————

Y/N took in the sparse accommodations, her mind racing with possible escape routes. She gritted her teeth, refusing to let the fear show on her face. "I'd rather not get too cozy with the enemy," she spat, her eyes never leaving his.

Uvogin chuckled, his amusement clear despite his gruff demeanor. "You've got spirit," he said, his eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. "But you're not going anywhere until Chrollo says so." He leaned back, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. "But don't worry, I won't bite—unless you ask nicely."

The days turned into a tense dance of cat and mouse. Y/N tried to maintain her distance from Uvogin, but the confined space made it near impossible. She watched him, studied his every move, looking for weaknesses she could exploit. But every time she thought she had found one, he'd catch her eye and give her a knowing smirk, as if he could read her thoughts.

Uvogin, for his part, was surprisingly courteous. He never laid a hand on her, except to unbind her when she needed to eat or use the facilities. He'd even bring her food, though it was always cold and tasteless, a stark reminder of her captivity.

The other troupe members would come and go, trying to persuade her to join their ranks with various tactics—from sweet-talking to outright threats. But she remained firm, her resolve unshaken.

. Uvogin's courteous behavior surprises her, and she remains unshaken by the Phantom Troupe's attempts to recruit her.

Nights were the hardest. The silence was deafening, filled only with the occasional snore from Uvogin and the distant echoes of the city outside. She'd lie there, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, her body tense and ready to spring into action at the slightest sound.

But each night, she'd also find her gaze drawn to Uvogin's silhouette in the moonlight, his chest rising and falling steadily. There was something almost…comforting about his presence, despite the danger he posed.

One evening, unable to stand the incessant whispering of her thoughts, she spoke up, breaking the heavy silence. "Why do you guys want me so badly?" she asked, her voice low and measured.

Uvogin stirred from his position, his eyes opening lazily. "You've got potential," he said, his voice gruff with sleep. "Chrollo sees something in you that could be…useful."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I'm not a tool to be used," she retorted, trying to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice.

Uvogin sat up, his gaze intense. "You're not just any thief," he said, his tone serious. "You've got a reputation, and not just for your skills. You're…different.".

Y/N felt a twinge of annoyance at his perceptiveness. She had worked hard to keep her emotions in check, to never let anyone see past her tough exterior. Yet here she was, confined with a man who could potentially crush her with his bare hands, and he was peeling back layers she had kept hidden for years. "What do you mean, different?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

Uvogin leaned against the headboard, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. "You've got guts, y/n," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But it's more than that. There's a…spark in you. A fire that refuses to be put out, no matter the odds." He paused, studying her in the moonlit room. "The troupe needs that kind of spirit."

Y/N scoffed, trying to ignore the warmth that his words kindled within her. "Flattery won't get you anywhere," she said, turning away to face the wall. But his words had planted a seed of doubt in her mind. Was she really so special? Or was this just another ploy to get her to comply?

The days grew longer, the tension in the room thickening with each passing hour. Y/N felt a strange pull towards Uvogin, a confusing mix of fear and attraction. She would catch herself watching him when he wasn't looking, studying the way his muscles moved as he sharpened his nails—his own brand of Nen. His eyes, though fierce, held a gentleness that seemed at odds with his reputation.

“Goodnight Uvogin.” Y/n promptly flipped her body to face the other direction. “Goodnight y/n!!” His voice boomed with happiness

——

One night, unable to sleep, she found herself staring at the tattoo on his chest, a symbol of the Phantom Troupe. It was intricate, almost mesmerizing. "What's it like?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Being in the troupe?"

Uvogin's eyes narrowed, sizing her up. "It's family," he said, his voice gruff. "We watch each other's backs, share our spoils, and fight together. We're not just a bunch of thieves and murderes. We're something more."

Y/N rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. "And what makes you think I'd fit in?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

Uvogin's gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "You remind me of someone," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Someone who didn't take crap from anyone, no matter how powerful they were."

The room grew quiet again, and Y/N felt the weight of his stare. She knew he wasn't just referring to her skills; there was something personal in his words.

"Someone from your past?" she ventured, curiosity piquing.

Uvogin's expression remained stoic, but she could see the flicker of memory in his eyes. "Someone I cared about," he admitted. "Someone who didn't make it out of this life."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken understanding. Y/N knew all too well the pain of loss and the cost of the life they led. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of something other than defiance—sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Uvogin's gaze sharpened, as if surprised by her sudden show of emotion.

A moment later, she felt his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. "Don't be," he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. "It's the life we chose."

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the weight of his words. For the first time, she saw the man behind the moniker, the pain and the loyalty that had driven him to this path. It was a stark reminder that even in a world of thieves and killers, there were moments of humanity.

"Why do you stay with them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Uvogin's hand lingered on her shoulder, his gaze searching hers. "Because," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "they're all I've got." He paused, his eyes flickering with something that looked almost like regret. "We're all lost souls, Y/N. Bound together by a thread of fate that none of us can cut. Besides I love violence, and making people feel pain.” His chuckles boomed with mischievously at his confession.

Y/N felt a pang of something unfamiliar—sympathy, perhaps—for this man who had become both her jailor and her confidant. "What was her name?" she asked softly.

Uvogin's expression grew distant, his eyes glazing over as he spoke her name. "Evangeline" he said, his voice thick with unspoken sorrow. "She was…special. Like you."

Y/N sat up, her curiosity piqued. "What happened to her?"

Uvogin's expression hardened, his grip on the covers tightening. "She was taken from us," he said, his voice a low growl. "By someone who didn't understand what family truly means."

"I'm sorry," she said again, the words feeling inadequate.

Uvogin nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "We all have our reasons for being here," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "But maybe, just maybe, we can find something more than just survival together in this life of murder, violence and thievery."

Y/N felt her walls cracking, the defiance she had clung to for so long slowly giving way to a strange sense of camaraderie. She didn't dare to hope, but the thought of belonging to something, to someone, was tempting.

Their eyes remained locked, the tension between them no longer just hostility, but something more complex, something that made her heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear. Without warning, Uvogin leaned in, his breath warm against her face, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say something else.

But instead, his lips met hers, the kiss firm and demanding, yet not without a hint of tenderness.

Y/N was taken aback, her mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. But she didn't pull away. Instead, she found herself responding, her body moving of its own accord as she leaned into the embrace. “Uvo~”

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the beat of his heart pounding in sync with hers. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of two souls finding an unexpected kinship in a world that offered them little warmth.

The kiss deepened, Uvogin's grip tightening, his hand tangling in her hair. Y/N could feel the strength in him, the power that made him feared throughout the underworld. But there was something else there too, something that made her heart flutter—the gentleness that lay beneath the hardened exterior. It was a contradiction that intrigued her, a softness she hadn't anticipated finding in this place.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Uvogin searched her eyes, looking for something she wasn't quite ready to give. "I've been thinking," she said, her voice a little shaky. "Maybe…maybe Chrollo's offer isn't so bad."

The room was still, the air thick with the weight of their shared secret. Uvogin's gaze searched hers, looking for any hint of deceit. "You'd really consider joining us?".

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the gravity of her decision. "I can see the bond you all share," she said, her voice steady. "And maybe…maybe I could find a place among you."

Uvogin's expression was unreadable, his hand still resting on her shoulder. "You're not just saying that to get out of here, are you.?" he asked, his tone a mix of hope and skepticism.

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. "No," she said, the word coming out stronger than she expected. "I've seen how you all are together. You're not just a bunch of thieves—you're a family."

Uvogin studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, slowly, a smile began to spread across his face. "Welcome to the Phantom Troupe," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "You're going to need a new name though."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "A new name?" she echoed, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Uvogin nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yeah, everyone in the troupe has one. It's part of our identity. What do you want to be called?"

Y/N took a moment to ponder, her heart racing. This was a significant step, a declaration of her new allegiance. "How about 'Phantom Thief'," she suggested, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Uvogin chuckled, the sound rumbling through the room. "I like it," he said, his eyes lighting up with approval. "It's got a ring to it."

The days that followed saw a shift in the dynamics of their captor-captive relationship. Y/N, now considering herself the Phantom Thief, began to open up to the other members of the troupe. They were an eclectic bunch, each with whose needles could slice through anything with ease;

Shizuku, the stoic and mysterious member who was unique. Her weapon being a vaccum that could suck up anything.

Machi, a radiant girl who was deadly as she was friendly.

, strikingly lesbian, yet a femme fetal who was as unpredictable as the tides;

, whose fiery aura and torturing blade skills were as mesmerizing as they were terrifying. Shalnark and phinks were very accepting and fun to be around.

Nobunaga, Uvogin best friend was chill, deftinkeu high all the time too!

Their banter, their inside jokes, their shared meals—it all started to feel eerily familiar. Y/N found herself warming up to them, their rough exteriors hiding hearts that were fiercely loyal to their own. And then there was Chrollo, the enigmatic leader with the eyes of a predator and the mind of a chess master. He watched her with a mix of amusement and scrutiny, as if she was a puzzle he hadn't quite figured out yet.

—————-//—-/-

One evening, as the troupe gathered in their makeshift headquarters, Y/N approached Chrollo, her eyes meeting his unwavering gaze. "I've been thinking about your offer," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. "Maybe I could get used to this life."

Chrollo's smile grew, his crimson eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, the Phantom Thief decides to join the fray," he said, his tone light and teasing. "Welcome, my dear. We're thrilled to have you with us."

The next day, to Y/N's surprise, Chrollo suggested a shopping spree as a way to celebrate her newfound allegiance. "A little treat before the real work begins," he said with a wink.

The troupe split into two groups—the girls and the boys—each with their own set of goals. Y/N, Machi, and Pakunoda set off into the bustling streets of the city, their eyes sparkling with excitement. They darted in and out of stores, their laughter echoing through the alleyways as they tried on ridiculous outfits and poked fun at each other's choices.

Machi found a pair of gloves that she claimed would perfectly complement her Nen abilities, while Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of a sleek, black jumpsuit that seemed tailor-made for her new identity.

Pakunoda, ever the fashionista, held up a garish hat with a wide brim. "What do you think?" she asked, her cheeky grin lighting up her face.

Machi giggled, her eyes glinting with mischief. "It's definitely…something," she said, holding it atop Y/N's head. "But maybe not for a Phantom Thief."

Pakunoda pouted playfully, snatching the hat away. "Fine, more for me then," she said, plopping it onto her own head and striking a pose. The three of them burst into laughter, the tension of their usual missions temporarily forgotten.

Meanwhile, the boys had taken a more laid-back approach. Uvogin, Feitan, and Phinks lounged in a nearby café, sipping coffee and watching the world go by.

Hisoka, ever the flamboyant one, had insisted on tagging along, his eyes scanning the crowd for potential…companions. More so children. "So, what do you think of our newest recruit?" Feitan asked, his tone casual as he stirred his drink.

Uvogin's gaze drifted to the memory of their stolen kiss, his expression unreadable. "She's got potential," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But she's still got a lot to learn."

“I think she’s a great woman, one id love to battle once more. Yet she holds not a candle to my Illumi~” Hisoka interjected. “What do you mean once more?” They asked the clown.

“we fought once, she took my precious Gon~ Away from me.” He pouted a bit. “Although I do say, it was quite ravishing.” “Why didn’t you say anything about this sooner hispka?” “It wasn’t in my best interes~” his face distorted into a lustful smile.

———

The shopping spree continued, with the girls trying on everything from flashy jewelry to tight leather pants. They giggled and whispered conspiratorially, sharing stories of their past heists and the thrills of outsmarting their marks. Y/N felt a strange sense of belonging, as if she had finally found her tribe.

"So, Phantom Thief," Machi began, holding up a pair of fingerless gloves that were adorned with silver studs, "What's your specialty?"

“I’m a jack of all trades, but my best specialty would be my hand to hand combat. I possess the ability to deduce one’s pressure points. But it doesn’t work on people as advanced as you bunch.” She laughed at her words.

Machi's eyes widened in admiration. "Wow, you're like a real-life cat burglar," she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. "Maybe you could teach me a few tricks."

Pakunoda leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've always wanted to learn how to manipulate pressure points! Mind reading is only as far as anything goes.” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Imagine the kind of mischief we could get into!"

The three of them shared a knowing smile, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and future escapades. They left the store, their arms laden with bags filled with their new treasures. The city lights reflected off the various weapons and gadgets they had managed to 'acquire' along the way.

It was a strange juxtaposition—the laughter and camaraderie of friends on a shopping trip, all while planning their next heist.

As they meandered through the crowded streets, the girls couldn't resist the allure of a street performer's sleight of hand. Y/N watched, her eyes narrowed as she tried to discern his secrets. "Amateurs," she murmured under her breath, earning a smack on the arm from Machi.

But amidst the chuckles and gasps of the crowd, she heard a familiar voice, one that sent a jolt of recognition through her. "Yo, that's the thief from Yorknew!" It was Gon, his youthful exclamation cutting through the din.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see the young boy, now older and more seasoned, standing alongside his friends—Killua, Leorio, and the stoic Kurapika. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, her hand instinctively reaching for her pocket where she kept her lockpicks. Had they come to apprehend her? Or were they just here by coincidence?

Gon's eyes lit up with excitement as he rushed over, his friends following closely behind. "It's really you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with the same enthusiasm she remembered. "Wow y/n , You're even more amazing than I thought!"

Y/N's hand froze over her pocket, her heart racing. She had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but it seemed fate had other plans. "Hi, guys," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Long time no see."

Gon's grin was as wide as she remembered it, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "We never got a chance to thank you for what you did back in Yorknew," he said, his eyes searching hers. "You saved us from that crazy guy—Hisoka!"

Y/N felt a twinge of anxiety. How much did they know? Did they recognize her as the thief she had been that night? She forced a casual smile. "It was nothing," she said, her heart hammering in her chest. "Just a little…adventure."

Killua's eyes narrowed, his sharp instincts picking up on the tension. "You're not in trouble, are you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. "No, no trouble at all," she said, her smile forced. "Just out for a little…shopping spree."

Leorio eyed the bags in their hands, his gaze shrewd. "Looks like you're going all out," he said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Y/N forced a laugh, her heart racing. "Just living life to the fullest," she said, trying to keep her cool.

But Kurapika's gaze was unyielding, his scarlet eyes piercing through the facade. "Is that so?" he said, his tone measured. "You seem to have changed a bit since we last met."

Y/N felt the weight of his scrutiny, her heart pounding in her chest. She had hoped to keep her past life a secret from them, but it seemed fate had other plans. "You guys have changed too," she said, trying to deflect. "You're all so…grown up."

Gon's grin didn't falter. "Thanks," he said, puffing out his chest. "We've had our fair share of adventures."

Leorio leaned in, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "So, what brings you to the city?" he asked, his gaze flicking to the bags they held.

Y/N's mind raced. She couldn't tell them the truth—not about the Phantom Troupe, not about her new life as a member of the notorious group. "Just passing through," she said, her voice a tad too bright. "You know how it is with the life of a thief."

Killua's gaze sharpened, his instincts on high alert. "Y/n, you’re not in trouble with any hunters, are you?" he asked, his eyes darting around the area as if searching for signs of pursuit.

Y/N's pulse quickened, her mind racing for a plausible lie. "No, nothing like that," she assured him, her voice steady despite the rising panic. "I've just been…keeping busy."

Before she could say more, Uvogin's formidable presence appeared beside them, his eyes scanning the group with a hint of suspicion. "Looks like you've made some friends," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N's heart sank. She had hoped to avoid this. "Guys, this is Uvogin," she said, her voice tight. "He's…an old acquaintance."

Gon's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh, you're with the Phantom Troupe!" he exclaimed, his excitement unabated. "That's so cool! Me and killua have already met them!!”

Y/N shot Uvogin a panicked look, but his expression remained unfazed. He simply nodded in greeting to the group of hunters. "We've got to get going," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "The city has more than enough to keep us busy."

Gon and his friends looked at each other, a mix of excitement and wariness crossing their faces. "Ah, right," Gon said, his smile faltering slightly. "We've got some exploring to do too."

Leorio stepped forward, his gaze still locked on the Phantom Troupe members. "It's been great seeing you again," he said, his voice a tad forced. "But we should let you get back to your…shopping."

Y/N nodded, her smile tight. "Yeah, we've got a lot to do," she agreed, hoping they would take the hint.

Machi and Pakunoda stepped in, sensing the tension. "Come on, Phantom Thief," Machi said, tugging at her arm. "We've got to get back before the boss starts to worry."

Their eyes met, and Y/N knew she had to play along. She took a deep breath and nodded, turning back to Gon and his friends. "It was great seeing you all," she said, her voice genuine despite the fear bubbling inside her. "But we really should get going."

Gon looked crestfallen, but he nodded. "Yeah, we've got a lot to do," he said, his eyes still sparkling with excitement. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."

She hoped they wouldn’t. For kurapikas scarlet eyes had awoken in that ver moment, if anything they both could’ve been killed on the spot. If she ran into him again, or with another phantom troupe member they’d be fucked.

It really was a mess, but at least of all people, she had Uvogin.

Phantom troupe plays Games!

This is a short little one shot about the phantom troupe playing some games together! Jenga, Uno, you name it!! Enjoy!

—————————

"Alright, whose turn is it?" Chrollo asked, glancing around the crowded table. The Phantom Troupe had gathered in the quiet lull of their latest hideout, the low murmur of the outside world a gentle backdrop to their camaraderie. The room was dimly lit, casting flickering shadows from the candles scattered across the floor and walls.

Shalnark and Phinks exchanged a knowing look, their hands hovering over the Jenga

"Let's go again, Chrollo” Phinks grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We're feeling lucky tonight."

Machi and Pakunoda giggled softly to themselves, watching the tension build as the two men took turns removing wooden blocks. “I wonder who will win again paku?” “Definitely not Uvogin or feitan that’s for sure.

The tower wobbled precariously, and Uvogin slammed his fist on the table. "This is ridiculous! How do you keep winning, Shizuku?"

“Really at Jenga, everybody except the loser wins, but if you must know.”

Shizuku shrugged, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "It's all about precision and patience," she said sweetly, blowing a strand of hair from her face. "You should try it sometime, Uvogin."

The room erupted in laughter, the tension momentarily broken. Uvogin's scowl deepened, but even he couldn't help but chuckle. “Whatever Shizuku.”

The air was thick with good-natured rivalry as the games continued. They had been playing for hours, the night stretching on into the early hours of the morning. The clatter of plastic and the shuffle of cards filled the space as they moved from Jenga to Monopoly and then to Uno.

The stakes were high, each victory met with cheers and groans, as if they were fighting for their lives rather than mere bragging rights.

“SHALNARK ILL GIVE YOU 1 MILLION JENNY! IF YOU BEAT ME IN ONE ON ONE UNO!” Phinks yelled with excitement. “OKAY PHINKS!! I CAN’T WAIT TO SHOP!

Nobunaga, ever the chill presence, leaned back in his chair, watching the games unfold with a lazy smile. "You know, I miss the days when we didn't have to play games to pass the time," he mused, stroking his chin. "But this isn't so bad either."

"Oh, come on, Nobunaga," Hisoka teased, flipping a card onto the Uno pile. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, you know I'd miss our little gatherings if we weren't playing something. Probaly would be stalking Gon~"

Feitan, whose irritation was palpable, glared at the flamboyant clown. "If you don't shut up about Gon, I'm going to turn this game into a real battle royale."

Hisoka's smile grew wider, his eyes never leaving the cards in his hand. "Oh, you're on edge tonight, Feitan. Did the Jenga tower collapse one too many times?"

Feitan's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his cards. "Keep it up, and you'll be the one regretting it."

Ignoring the threat, Hisoka leaned closer to the table, his crimson hair brushing the edge. "Tell us more about this 'special' thing you see in Gon, will you? Maybe it's his ability to annoy everyone so much that they want to fight him?"

The group chuckled, but Chrollo remained thoughtful, stroking the spine of his book. "Gon's potential is indeed intriguing. It's a wild card we can't overlook."

Shizuku's eyes flickered to Chrollo, a hint of respect in her gaze. "You're right, Chrollo. He's got something… different about him. An indomitable spirit.”

Uvogin rolled his eyes. "Spare me the poetic crap. He's just a kid with a death wish and a giant heart."

Machi and Pakunoda giggled again, placing their bets on the next round of Uno. The colorful cards danced in the candlelight as they played, each trying to outwit the others.

"You're all just jealous," Hisoka said, laying down a Reverse card. "I mean, I've seen the boy In action. But my little fruit is still unripe~ I’m itching for the day he becomes a man "

Uvogin's hand hovered over his hand, his eyes narrowed. "If he's so special, why don't you go play with him instead of bothering us?" “That wouldn’t be fun, I toyed with him and Killua last week.” He whined.

Shizuku’s smirk grew as she placed her next card. "Because we're here, enjoying ourselves, Uvogin. Besides, it's not every day we get to see you so… human."

The room quieted as Uvogin's scowl darkened. He slammed his hand down on the table, causing the tower to wobble again. "I'm not playing this kids' game anymore," he growled, pushing his chair back. "I'm going out for a smoke with Nobunaga.”

Nobunaga nodded, setting his cards aside. "Alright, let's go," he said, standing up with a stretch. The two friends made their way to the balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling tension inside.

"You must like that kid, don't you?" Uvogin said, his voice gruff as he lit a blunt. “I’ve taken a liking to him, while you were away I asked him to join the troupe. But he declined.” Nobunaga chuckled.

“Seems like him, he’s not cut out for a life like this anyways.”

Inside, the games had reached a fever pitch. Feitan's frustration had boiled over, and he was now glaring at Shizuku, who had just won another round of Uno. "You're cheating," he accused, slamming his cards down.

Shizuku's smile never wavered, her eyes on her cards. "You're just not observant enough, Feitan," she said, placing a Reverse card with a flourish. The room fell silent as the tension grew.

"Maybe we should take a break," Chrollo suggested, standing up and moving to the kitchen. "I've got something that might improve everyone's mood."

Moments later, he returned with a tray of freshly baked brownies, the sweet aroma filling the room. “I suppose we should have a break.” Feitans eyes flared.

“Phinks! Go get the liquor for me.” Shalnark exclaimed. “Okay! Be right back.”

"Who wants the first brownie?" Chrollo offered, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Feitan's hand shot up, snatching one before anyone else could. "I'm not letting you win just because you baked us treats," he snarled, eyeing Shizuku suspiciously.

Shizuku took a brownie, her expression calm. "I'm not worried," she said, taking a bite and savoring the rich chocolate. "I play fair and square."

"It's not about winning or losing, Feitan," Chrollo said, placing the tray in the center of the table. "It's about the thrill of the game." He offered a brownie to Feitan, who grudgingly took one. “Besides feitan, youlll get your fun torturing somebody later.” “I guess you’re right Machi.”

“SPEAKING OF DELICIOUS TREATS MY GO~” “SHUT THE FUCK UP HISOKA!” Feitan yelled. “Fine how rude, I’m telling my Illumi.” He scoffed at the short man.

“moving forward, somebody go get Uvogin and Nobunaga so we can talk game plan for the Yorknew city auction.” Chrollo ordered.

In 15 days, the Yorknew city auction would take place. Hisoka would be plotting against the troupe and one of their own would be taken from them. But who?

It was times like these, that they would never know they took for granted. But they’d have fun doing them, with the only family they have.

The phantom troupe.

My HxH headcanons!(ik this ain’t what I usually post but I’m getting back into hxh lol)

Gon: He is a really good cook, like really good. He learned from aunt mito, they were always in the kitchen together when he was younger.

Killua: He would be really great with hair, he learned from doing Allukas hair when they were younger. It’s a skill he never forgot.

Illumi: His guilty pleasure is those crepes filled with ice cream. Hisoka most definitely showed him it, now he eats it in his free time secretly. He would over eat it like he would eat 72 of them in one day just cause.

Hisoka: Fills kids candy with razors during Halloween. (Sorry but he def would😭)

Feitan: Likes to tinker with things, like he makes weapons that he uses to torture his enemies.

Machi: Despite her name she hates things machi flavored.

Chrollo: Used to be an arts and craft person, like making bracelets and jewelry. He made them when he was little (like 7-8) he would make them with stuff he found in meteor city.

Alluka: Binge watchs my little pony and monster high religiously.

Leorio: Makes really corny dad jokes and references. Thinks he’s a comedic genius, even though no one laughs.

Kurapika: I feel like he would like really obscure bands.

I will still be posting black butler content but I kinda wanna branch out a lil more. I hope u all have a wonderful day remember to drink water.((๑╹ω╹๑ )

ƝЄƔЄƦ ƛԼƠƝЄ

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚊, 𝙶𝚘𝚗, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚎 (𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍)

The phantom troupe is certainly an interesting mix of crazed individuals. All insane in their own way. The guy named Nobunaga wanted y’all to join them, honestly you were just happy you weren’t going to die.

Gon and Killua were pissed at not only the phantom troupe but also themselves, how could they be so stupid and get caught like that.

Meanwhile you met most of the group minus their boss. You thought Shalnark was kinda scary not only with the whole killing your aunt thing, but also because you felt this underlining malice in his voice when he spoke. You thought Machi was chill, she was cool and was against Feitan when he suggested killing y’all.

You thought Pakunoda was low key really cool in your eyes she seemed badass. You thought Phinks was annoying he kept trying to talk to you. You thought that Feitan, well is Feitan he is cold to you. He acts like you are a nuisance but he keeps staring at you it’s weird.

Shinzuku and Franklin were alright they didn’t really talk to you but they kinda seemed nice.

Let’s fast forward a little bit, Nobunaga had you and the boys in a room in their hideout. He was waiting for his boss to get back so he could approach the idea of adding y’all to the group.

Don’t think that your plan to escape them still isn’t happening, the phantom troupe kidnapping y’all was a momentary set back. Your plan was still in motion. So there you were clinging to Killua curled to his side, for the first time this was your choice.

To escape you needed to play into their delusions that you are their helpless little sibling. So you tried your best to seem like you actually tolerated them.

Gon and Killua eventually started arguing, they made up and with you on Gons back they charged at Nobunaga. Last second they turned and broke down the walls, escaping. Smart you would give them that. (This is where I change the original plot a little)

As they were running also happened to be the time Chrollo, Shalnark, Machi, Phinks, and Feitan happens to be coming back. Y’all ran right past them as they turned the corner.

Y’all were close to the fence that fenced of their hideout from the rest of the world. Panic overcame you if the boys successfully escaped which they were you. Would be trapped yet again, screw my plan you thought you were going to escape NOW.

So you started to thrash around on Gons back he tried to hold on to you. As he jumped up to hop the fence you jumped back pushing his back with your feet hard. You flipped off his back and instead of landing over the fence like you hoped, you landed right into Shalnark.

“FUCK”, you said angrily. In your rashness you had forgotten that the frickin phantom troupe was right behind you.

He caught you hoisting you up by your armpits like you were a cat. When you finally got your since back you started thrashing. “NO NO THIS ISNT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO DO” you yelled, but he just held you tighter.

The boys were frozen, what do they do? Should they try and save you? I mean the ficken phantom troupe had you literally in their arms. They were too powerful for the boys to beat. So they ran, they would save you. What kind of big brothers would they be if they didn’t?

They walked you back to their hideout, except they wouldn’t let you walk you were held rather tightly by Shalnark to prevent you from moving.

You thought about activating your nen but you had heard from a friend of a friend that their boss Chrollo could steal Nen abilities and you didn’t want to find out if those were just rumors or not.

Honestly you were so fucking tired why was life doing this to you?

You officially believed you were cursed, you wanna know why. Because the fucking phantom troupe were becoming like Killua and Gon sorta at least that’s one of your theories, or they’re just lunatics.

You talked with their boss Chrollo he was actually kind of nice to you. Although he treated you like you were younger it was refreshing to not be treated like you weren’t made of porcelain.

It was the rest of the troupe that were starting to treat you like the boys did and you had no idea why. It was mainly Shalnark and Phinks.

“So what do you want from me?” You asked putting your head in your hand, despite your situation you were insanely bored.

“To talk, you know the chain user don’t you?” He asked speaking slowing as if to make sure you heard and understood every word. “For the last time no I don’t know who you’re talking about. I know your goonies went through Killuas brain but I am not Killua. I don’t know who you are talking about” you said making sure to say Goonies extra loud so the whole troupe heard you. At this point you didn’t care if you made enemies.

Chrollo looked at your eyes intensely as if to catch you in a lie. You stared back equally as intense, no longer caring what happens to you.

You and Chrollo talked more, eventually you were in the center of the whole troupe they were conversing with their boss. You occasionally butted in when it was relevant to you.

Pakunoda was ordered to make sure you really didn’t know the chain user. She walked over and put a hand one your head, looking through your memories. She stopped took her hand off your head and just stared at you with wide eyes like she say something she wasn’t supposed to.

You didn’t understand, did you live through something that involved them. You couldn’t have the only on you have history which is Shalnark.

She paused before turning to look at her boss saying that you didn’t know the chain user. She followed up with saying “this child is….. i-important” she said stuttering. The troupe looked at her strangely

“Their memories, were run of the mill but it’s just that there’s something up with her something strange she isn’t telling us she knows something” Pakunoda said sounding unsure.

“What could I possibly be hiding?” You asked now angry. “I just wanna go home can I please just leave?” You said tired.

They didn’t let you leave instead they held you there because you were “suspicious” or whatever you didn’t care you were so tired of everyone.

They started acting weird like the boys, ‘fuck fuck fuck’ you thought when you realized that they were becoming scarily attached to you.

They smothered you with affection (mostly Shalnark) and talking. They became weirdly protective even Feitan was becoming possessive. It was like a virus spreading to the people you talked to.

Machi was more protective towards you. When she had to watch you see kept you close tho her side, when you strayed she would literally pull you too her and pushed you against her side.

Shalnark was always with you talking he even started talking and acting like you were his fricken child!

Hisoka just sorta stared at you but his eyes spoke a thousand words.

Phinks on the other hand was trying to get you to warm up to him. News flash it didn’t work. Feitan surprisingly became a sort of breath of fresh air. Whenever you were with him he didn’t talk just stared. It was scary but at least he wasn’t being clingy like the rest of them.

They were soft with you it felt weird and out of character for them. But seeing how the boys suddenly started acting with you nothing was impossible.

That’s all for today Part 4 tomorrow! Love u all drink lots of water! Bye bye! (All parts are on my page)༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ

(!☆!: Reader is written as a female)

Ch. 1: The Fallen Shepherd is out now!

Author's Note: This is a rewritten version of an old idea I had planned for a fic/series, sparked by sudden inspiration and a plethora of ideas, as it takes place before the events of the York New Arc. I plan to update chapters weekly. As for now, here is the summary!

You were once a well-known Hunter, a name whispered with respect and fear alike, until you vanished, leaving your past behind. But when a young man’s tragic story awakens old wounds, you return, determined to finish one last job. Disguised as a devout follower, you infiltrate a quiet town where a beloved priest hides in plain sight. You soon recognize the ghost of the child you once cared for haunting the Phantom Troupe leader in question. As you walk the fine line between duty and personal guilt, you must decide: can you bring down the monster he’s become, or will the weight of your own failures trap you in his web?

☆ I just wanted to point out something that I found ironic and something I did not plan at all. How this fanfic’s first upcoming chapter takes place on September 1st and today is September 1st…how the stars align LMAO ☆

(!☆!: Reader is written as a female)

Author's Note: This is a rewritten version of an old idea I had planned for a fic/series, sparked by sudden inspiration and a plethora of ideas, as it takes place before the events of the York New Arc. I plan to update chapters weekly. As for now, here is the summary!

You were once a well-known Hunter, a name whispered with respect and fear alike, until you vanished, leaving your past behind. But when a young man’s tragic story awakens old wounds, you return, determined to finish one last job. Disguised as a devout follower, you infiltrate a quiet town where a beloved priest hides in plain sight. You soon recognize the ghost of the child you once cared for haunting the Phantom Troupe leader in question. As you walk the fine line between duty and personal guilt, you must decide: can you bring down the monster he’s become, or will the weight of your own failures trap you in his web?

A Chrollo x F!Hunter Reader Fic | Summary

Best advised to be read in dark mode. AO3 link coming soon!

★ 18+ MDNI WARNINGS: descriptive murder, burning of corpses, torture?, arson, slight implication of attempted suicide, gore, blood, violence, strong mentions of sexual abuse towards children including human trafficking, implied kidnapping, perversion of innocence, predators, CP, and implied rape. (NO I DO NOT ENDORSE THE ABUSE OF CHILDREN. it is only briefly mentioned since it is disgusting to keep the story realistic and strictly used as awareness since this is actual problems in the real world they don't just kidnap children. I WILL NEVER! write about non-con with underage characters or children, rape, and assault.) ★

☆ word count. 8.9k (sheeeesh had to hold back on somethings)

✥ Chapter Summary: Lost in the shadows of your despair, haunted by memories of the children you once saved, you find yourself drifting further from your purpose. But when a call from Chairman Netero breaks the silence, you're pulled back into a world you thought you'd left behind, drawn into the unknown for one last round — for the sake of saving a young man from making the same mistakes you did. ✥

The church was still, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candles. You remained in the pew, feigning prayer, while your mind wrestled with turbulent thoughts.

But before you found yourself here, in this quiet sanctuary, there was a journey—a path that led you back to the world you had once left behind.

“You can’t save them all.”

The words echoed in your mind—a truth you had grappled with for most of your life. So why was it so hard to accept that cruel reality? Why did you live your life the way you did? Most people would argue that they wish they had your power and skills. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t comprehend the burden that came with such strength.

Why would anyone want to carry that weight for so long?

Power is a double-edged sword. If you aren’t corrupted by it, you’re crushed beneath its weight. How easy it is to destroy rather than create.

You often wondered why Netero had chosen you that day. What did he see first—the helpless child who had lost everything or the Hunter who would grow into his greatest soldier?

You trailed behind the men, each step leading you deeper into the belly of this vile place. They had no idea you were not one of them, no clue that every word you spoke and every move you made was part of a carefully laid trap. The air around you was thick with malice, a foul concoction of despair, fear, and predatory intent.

Since taking the head of your family’s killer, there has been a void in your heart—one you filled with vengeance.

But now, you had a new purpose: to use your power to hunt down the worst of humanity, like this network of mafia traffickers.

Suddenly, your senses sharpened. You heard it—a soft, muffled cry—the children.

The group leader, a man with greasy hair and a twisted grin, laughed. “You hear them, little rascals?” he sneered, gesturing ahead with a perverse pride. “Got a fresh batch of chicklings just yesterday. Innocent, full of life... worth a lot more in certain markets, if you catch my drift..."

A wave of revulsion swept over you, but you kept your face steady, fighting internally the burning in your throat.

Sick bastards. That’s all they were to you. There was nothing more vile than preying upon children, tearing away their innocence, and selling their pain.

Once, you had believed killing was always wrong. But when faced with monsters like these, death seemed like the only solution.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right, Mistress?” The leader’s voice was thick with expectation, his beady eyes studying you for any sign of weakness.

You met his gaze with a cold, calculated, calm one. “The price is no problem, but I’ll need to see the ‘quality’ of the children you speak of to ensure they’re worth it,” you replied, playing along with his sick game. He grinned, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator sensing victory.

“Of course, my lady, right this way,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him up a rickety flight of stairs.

As you ascended, you noticed the tapes scattered on the floor—stacks of them carefully labeled and arranged. Your heart sank at the sight. You knew exactly what they were: recordings of abuse. Child pornography is waiting to be sold and distributed. Evidence of what these children had endured and what they were being forced to relive in the most horrific way possible.

Images of small, terrified faces pinned to the walls, some in tears, others with expressions frozen in fear, burned into your mind. You forced yourself to keep moving, to keep your eyes forward, your face blank. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to lash out, but you had to stay focused. You had to see this through.

When you reached the top, he led you to a door and pushed it open with a creak. Inside, the children were huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. At the front stood a small boy with big gray eyes—"The runt." of the group. His clothes were torn, dirt smeared on his cheeks, but there was something in his gaze—a spark of defiance that hadn’t yet been snuffed out. The other children seemed to hover protectively around him, even in their weakened states.

“Well, what do you think of these little lambs?” the leader asked, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Aren’t they precious?”

You glanced at the children, your heart aching. For a split second, your gaze softened when you saw the small, porcelain-skinned boy, his eyes locked onto yours. He seemed to sense something in you, something different. You took a slow, steady breath, and without moving your lips, you mouthed, “I’m here to help.”

The boy’s grip on the bars loosened slightly. Hope flickered in his big gray eyes. You could feel the children’s fear and desperation mingling with a fragile thread of trust. They were so small, so fragile, yet somehow still fighting.

“They are precious,” you murmured, your voice taking on a steely edge. “But not in the way you’re thinking.”

The men’s laughter faltered. They sensed the shift, but too late. You moved swiftly, raising your hand. A wall of stone shot up from the ground, separating the children from their captors. Panic spread among the men as they scrambled for their weapons, but you were already moving.

With a flick of your wrist, a vine extended from the stone wall, and in its grip, a sword was handed to you. The blade flashed, slicing through the air. In one swift motion, you severed their hands before they could draw their guns. Blood spattered against the walls, and the men screamed.

“You crazy bi—” one of them began, but his voice was cut off as you grabbed his face. Nen flames flared from your palm, melting his skin. His screams turned to a hideous, gurgling cry as you slammed him against the wall, against a picture of him touching one of the children.

“My flames are nothing compared to the ones you’ll face for eternity,” you said, your voice cold and unwavering.

"THE DEVIL! YOU'RE THE DEVIL!" he shrieked, his voice cracking in terror.

“YOU’LL GO TO HELL TOO!” another screamed.

You tilted your head slightly, unbothered. “I know,” you replied calmly. “And I’ll be right there with you... to make sure you suffer.”

With a final, furious surge of nen, you let the flames consume him, his body twitching as the fire took hold. One by one, the men fell, their screams swallowed by the inferno of your rage.

The air thickened with the stench of burning flesh, but all you felt was a calm, cold satisfaction. You took a deep breath, letting the fire die down, leaving only smoldering ashes behind.

The floor was now slick with blood, staining everything it touched. You closed your eyes and focused, drawing on your nen, the energy that flowed through your very being. You felt a ripple within yourself, a gathering of moisture in your veins, pulling towards your fingertips. With a single thought, you summoned it forth.

20%

A small, shimmering blob of water began to form, hovering just above your palm. It glistened with a faint blue hue, infused with your nen—your life force flowing through it. The water was more than liquid; it was an extension of your will, a manifestation of the purity and cleansing you desired.

You moved your hand slowly, and the blob expanded, reaching toward the crimson stains that pooled on the floor. It touched the blood, and a strange, almost serene reaction occurred. The nen-infused water seemed to drink up the blood, absorbing it into its depths, turning it from a crystalline blue to a dark, murky red. It quivered and shifted, gathering every last drop, until the floor was clean.

Once it was done, you flicked your wrist, and the blood-tainted water dissipated into steam, evaporating into the air. The scent of iron and smoke faded, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of moisture.

You turned to the vine still hanging from the wall. “Take the corpses to another room,” you said softly. “I don’t want the children to see this.”

The vine extended, wrapping around the charred remains and dragging them away, leaving the room clear. You watched it go, feeling a pang of sorrow in your chest. “I’m sorry, Mother,” you whispered, “but someone has to purge the evil, right?”

The vine nodded as if in understanding and vanished into the shadows.

With the room now clear, you lowered the stone wall, allowing the children to see. They were still huddled together, wide-eyed, trembling, but there was a new light in their eyes—a glimmer of hope.

You kneeled, using a tiny flame to illuminate the room gently. “You’re safe now,” you said softly, your voice switching to a delicate tone.

The small, marble-eyed boy stepped forward. His hand slipped into yours, his grip surprisingly strong for his size. “You back came for us?” he whispered, his voice shaking but resolute.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently, a warm smile breaking through your hardened expression. “Always.”

The children began to move toward you, timid at first, then with growing confidence, their small hands reaching out, seeking comfort. For now, at least, they were safe.

And you would make sure it stayed that way.

It was mostly your funding that kept the orphanages in Meteor City from crumbling. Your money was funneled into the broken, forgotten corners of the city where children like Chrollo and his friends sought refuge. You couldn’t always be there, but when you were, you made it count—your presence, your touch, your attention. That was the difference, wasn’t it? You had to put your wealth somewhere, after all—unlike Ging or Pariston, whose fortunes seemed to disappear into the wind, chasing their whims. For you, though, Meteor City had become an escape, a place to atone for the things you couldn’t control.

But it was more than duty, wasn’t it?

Chrollo had bonded to you in a way that you hadn’t expected. The other children admired you, but he worshiped you. His innocence clung to you, unsettling and infectious, dragging you into a world where, for brief moments, you almost believed you could be more than just a Hunter. That you could be someone who stayed.

It was one of those quiet, unguarded moments when you found yourself in Meteor City again, his small, frail body curled up against yours on his bed, his head tucked beneath your chin as if he could melt into your very being. His face pressed into your chest, and his small hands clung to your shirt as if you were his entire world.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft, pleading. His wide gray eyes blinked up at you, still so full of that childlike adoration that made your chest tighten painfully. He didn’t understand—how could he? He was too young, too innocent.

You combed your fingers through his shaggy, jet-black hair, pretending it didn’t hurt to hear him ask. Pretending it didn’t make you feel like you were betraying something inside yourself. The glow from the window—the familiar golden light of dawn—signaled your impending departure. Mother Nature, it seemed, always knew when it was time to pull you away. You would have to leave again. You always left.

But not yet.

“Okay,” you whispered, the lie slipping from your lips like it always did. “I’ll stay.” You tucked his head back against your chest, hoping to drown his fears in the safety of your embrace. He felt so small compared to you, so fragile. You held him tighter, but no matter how tightly you cradled him, you knew it wouldn’t be enough. You couldn’t stay.

He sighed, his words soft and filled with frustration. “I wish you were just a normal girl. Not the Great Hunter. They always take you away from me.”

The weight of his words crushed your chest. You swallowed hard, burying the guilt and sorrow that always surfaced in these moments. He was just a boy, after all—a boy who didn’t know what it meant to live a life like yours. His love was simple, innocent, and untainted by the reality that you could never be what he wanted you to be.

He sighed again, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s not fair. You’re just a kid like me, but it’s like... you’re not. You’re stronger, taller... you have magic. You’re not afraid of anything.” His sleepy eyes blinked up at you, half-lidded, his gaze lingering on your face as if you were the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “You’re so cool, Y/N.”

You forced a smile, your heart aching with every word. How could he say these things so easily, not knowing the storm they stirred within you? You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be feeling this pull toward him, this unbearable conflict between duty and something else—something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I want to be strong like you,” he continued, his voice fading as sleep began to pull him under. “Then I’ll be the one to save you.”

You let out a chuckle, though it felt hollow. “Oh really? I can’t wait to see you try.” Your voice was soft and gentle, as if you could keep him safe from the weight of your feelings. But even as you spoke, your gaze lingered on his longer than it should have. The way his eyes—those innocent gray eyes—held yours made something inside you crack. You didn’t want to look away.

And yet, you had to.

As Chrollo yawned, his body slowly relaxing into the warmth of your embrace, your heart clenched in that familiar, bittersweet way. You knew what was coming next—the moment when he would fall asleep, and you’d have to leave. You always left. He knew it too, even if he didn’t say it. His eyes fought against the sleep pulling him under as if staying awake would keep you there just a little longer.

You should go. You needed to go. But instead, you held him close, brushing your thumb along his cheek, tracing the outline of his pale face. He murmured something so soft, so quiet, you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart shattered.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t respond. How could you? What could you say to that? You weren’t supposed to feel this way. You weren’t supposed to let it hurt. And yet, his innocent words cut deeper than any wound you had ever known.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you cradled his face in your hands, letting the silence fill the space between you. Your mind and heart were at war, clashing violently as you tried to convince yourself that you felt nothing for this boy—nothing beyond duty, beyond the role you were meant to play.

But his words lingered. His love lingered. And it was killing you.

Only you could carry this burden. You had to ensure that you were the last shepherd, even if you were just a broken saint now.

And when he called, you would answer, no matter how much time had passed since that harrowing incident.

Isaac Netero’s familiar contact flashed onto your phone just as you returned to your quiet estate. The grand home, surrounded by vast lands, had become your sanctuary—where time seemed to stand still. Bamboo trees swayed in the wind, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear, and the rustle of leaves was like a lullaby to your broken spirit. This land, untouched and isolated, had become your refuge. Here, you could pretend the world had forgotten you, just as you had tried to ignore it.

You rarely needed to leave; everything you required, you grew with your own hands. The earth was rich and forgiving; the bamboo was tall and kind, your only companions, as well as the critters that inhabited the land, your only solace. They tried to aid in healing your scars, though they only made the loss more bearable. They connected you to reality, keeping you grounded and pulling you back from the edge whenever you felt yourself slipping away. They depended on you as much as you did on them. 

But even Mother Nature, with all her quiet persistence, couldn’t fill the gaping void left by your loss. She could only make the emptiness more bearable, less suffocating.

You had given in to the silence, but she hadn’t given up on you. Yet the moment Netero’s contact appeared, the corpse of your heart couldn’t help but beat with a retired purpose you knew you could no longer fulfill.

Still, your hands, worn and deft, quickly picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear.

“Y/N L/N. Think you have a chance to talk, my dear?”

His familiar, softened gruff voice was a reminder of how time had aged him, even though he had left you with so many unanswered questions. He was still your father in many ways.

But you were now Netero’s little fallen general.

“I’m here,” you replied, your voice a ghost of itself, as if unused to forming words meant for anyone else. “It's good to hear your voice. I would ask, How have you been?”

“I am well, Father,” you cut in, a weary undertone threading through your words. “Trying to keep the ground from swallowing me whole.”

A heavy silence fell between you, a shared history that neither of you wanted to address hanging thick in the air. Netero sighed, his voice dipping into a tone you had not heard in years—gentle, almost pleading. 

“Y/N…”

You remained silent, unyielding, waiting for him to continue.

“Listen to me, just this once,” he started, but you interrupted again, sharper this time, like a blade cutting through the fog.

“My nen is gone, Isaac," you said, each word deliberate and hard. "There’s nothing more to that story. There is no Master of the Hunters anymore.”

The silence that followed was colder, heavier. You could almost hear him wince at the use of his first name, a name you rarely called him. You knew it hurt him—that it stripped away the façade he liked to wear around you.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, his voice laced with quiet desperation. “I'm not asking for her to listen to me,” he said carefully. “I'm asking for you, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifted to the bamboo outside, watching the stalks bend and sway in the wind. There was a part of you that wanted to hang up, to let the silence consume you once more, but another part—a faint, barely alive spark—kept you on the line.

“There is a young man,” Netero continued, “who is the spitting reincarnation of you."

Your chest tightened, the ache spreading like a slow poison through your veins. You swallowed, but it felt like shards of glass in your throat.

Netero’s voice softened, almost as if he were trying to soothe a frightened child. “I know I pushed you to retire early, and for that, I am sorry,” he confessed, his words heavy with regret. “I couldn’t bear the thought of what might happen if the wrong people found out you had lost your nen. But this boy—he needs someone who can show him the way. Someone who can give him a chance to choose a different path. A scent he can follow.”

He paused, the weight of his words settling into the air between you. “None of us can do that.”

A flicker of frustration sparked within you, threatening to crack the numbness you had wrapped around yourself like armor. You closed your eyes, the familiar heaviness of duty pressing against your chest. "Why... why do you always drag me back, Isaac?" you murmured, your voice almost devoid of emotion, a whisper lost in the wind.

“Because,” he replied softly, his voice steady but filled with quiet insistence, “you lost your nen, but you didn’t lose everything. I couldn’t save you from your fate... but you can save him before he makes the same mistake.”

For a moment, the world outside seemed to be still. The bamboo stopped swaying, the wind held its breath, and even the critters paused their quiet movements. Everything waited for you to decide whether you would let yourself be pulled back into the life you had tried so hard to leave behind.

A slow exhale escaped your lips, and your grip tightened around the phone. Maybe it wasn’t about saving yourself. Maybe it was about saving someone else—just one more time.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally whispered, knowing you were already halfway convinced.

Netero's sigh of relief was almost inaudible, but you felt it—a soft echo in your chest. "That's all I ask," he said gently. "Just think about it."

And with that, the call ended, leaving you standing alone in the quiet of your sanctuary, the wind picking up again, the bamboo swaying once more.

For the first time in a long time, you felt the stirrings of something beyond emptiness—a faint, fragile thing that might have been hope.

You let yourself fall back against the mat, feeling the familiar, frayed edges pressing into your back. Your phone lay loosely in your grip, screen dark, but its weight still anchored you to the moment. You stared blankly at the stone pond before you, the water still and silent under the overcast sky. But inside, that gnawing feeling had grown stronger, louder, and more insistent. The doubt and emptiness you had tried so hard to bury now surged to the surface like a wave, threatening to swallow you whole.

Then you saw her—the familiar, ethereal form rising from the pond—"Mother," your nen-made spirit, tilting her head at you, trying to read the emotions you kept so tightly locked away. Her shape shimmered and wavered, the liquid surface of her body catching the dim light, reflecting a thousand tiny, dancing fragments of your surroundings.

“You’re cruel...” you muttered, not bothering to lift your head. You didn’t need to see her to know she was there, watching you with a concern you could not bear. The water spirit hovered closer, her presence radiating a gentle insistence. A wave of water reached out, almost like a hand, and as she moved, droplets broke away and splattered onto your face. The cool water trickled down your skin, obliging you to finally look up and meet her gaze.

Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her form, the way her edges seemed to blur and tremble, told you everything. She was worried. She is always worried. Especially when you have attempted to end your suffering...

Seeing her like that... It only made the ache worse. It plagued you and gnawed at you like an open wound. You hated it. You hated feeling like this—so useless, so empty. Once, you had been so certain of your place in the world, so sure of your purpose. You had moved like a blade through the darkness, cutting down every evil in your path. You had saved countless lives and fought battles that others had deemed impossible. You mattered.

And now... now it felt like all of that was gone. Stripped away the moment your nen vanished. When it had left you, it had taken everything with it. Your sense of self, your purpose, your reason for being—it had all crumbled to dust, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

"Quit it," you muttered, your voice low and tired. "I'm not in the mood."

But Mother didn’t listen. She never did. Instead, she moved closer, her form rippling like a soft wave, the water elongating until it seemed to reach across the space between you. With a sudden, playful motion, she curled around your feet, a cold grip tightening around your ankles. Before you could protest, she yanked you off the mat, dragging you across the ground.

“Really?” You groaned, exasperation flaring. You knew what she was doing. She was trying to wake you up, to stir something inside you. “Cut it out, Mother.”

She didn’t respond. The water around your ankles tightened, and with another tug, she lifted you upside down, your hair falling toward the ground. The blood rushed to your head, and you blinked, momentarily disoriented. For a moment, you dangled there like a rag doll over the pond, your feet held aloft by a watery tendril.

You found yourself staring directly into her face—or what passed for a face—her liquid eyes focused intently on you, unblinking, unwavering. She was demanding your attention, forcing you to look at her to confront whatever was buried deep inside. The silence stretched between you, filled only by the gentle slosh of water moving with every slight motion.

“I said quit it,” you repeated, a hint of irritation in your voice. But she didn’t budge. Her expression seemed almost stern. The water droplets that made up her body shivered slightly, as if she were speaking a language only you could understand.

Mother’s form shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her head tilted again, and for a second, she almost seemed to frown. The water that held you up began to twist and turn, slowly spinning you in the air as if examining you from every angle. Her touch was cold, but there was something else there—something gentle, almost comforting, beneath the chill. She wouldn’t let you hide from this. She wouldn’t let you sink back into the darkness you’d been wallowing in for so long.

“Quit it, Mother,” you muttered, voice strained, but there was no real fight in your tone. You were too exhausted to fight her, too tired to do much more than dangle there, your heart heavy and your purpose frayed.

Mother, ever persistent, moved the water around you in a swirl, as if shaping something from the depths of her core. You felt a coldness, a thin sheet of water sliding up to your face, and then you saw it—your reflection mirrored perfectly in the water.

But Mother didn’t stop there. Slowly, deliberately, she turned the reflection around.

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of your own back and your skin. The large, red Hunter symbol emblazoned between your shoulder blades, stark against your flesh, with the L/N family symbols woven underneath, bearing the phrase that had once given you strength:

"No child left behind." 

The words, so familiar, stared back at you with a cruel clarity. Your vow, your creed. The promise you had whispered to yourself a thousand times over, in the darkest nights, in the quiet moments of despair. The very words you had once tattooed onto your skin were like armor against the world.

Your breath caught in your throat. You tried to look away, but Mother twisted the mirror slightly, making sure you couldn’t escape it.

The reminder was as sharp as a blade, cutting through your excuses and your self-pity.

You were The Great Hunter, not because of the nen you wielded, but because of the promise you had made. Because of the innocent you had sworn to protect.

Mother watched, her watery eyes soft but firm, refusing to release you until the weight of that reflection settled back into your bones.

You sighed, a long, tired exhale, and for a moment, just a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the ache of that old purpose stirring within you.

She stared back, unyielding. Her watery surface rippled slightly, as if in response to your unspoken thoughts, and you felt a tear prick at the corner of your eye. A tear you quickly blink away. The silence stretched on, filled with everything you weren't saying—filled with all the things she knew you didn’t want to admit.

You sighed, feeling the fight leave you, your shoulders slumping. “Fine. Fine, you win,” you said quietly, feeling defeated, but in a way that almost felt like relief. She had always been there to stop you from corrupting yourself, always pushing you, always forcing you to face the things you wanted to ignore. And now, as much as you hated to admit it, you needed her to do it again.

You felt her release your ankles, and for a moment, you simply stood there, breathing, your heartbeat slowing, the cool air biting at your skin. She hovered closer, her watery hand reaching out as if to touch your face, but she hesitated, just a fraction of an inch away. You stared into her eyes, feeling something inside you break loose like a dam giving way.

You hated this... You hated feeling like you were nothing. Like you were just a vessel for the person you used to be.

Your Nen was gone, but you were still here. That gnawing, insatiable need to matter, to make a difference, was still there, burning quietly beneath the surface.

You took a breath, your fingers tightening around the phone still in your hand. "Alright," you whispered, almost to yourself. "Alright, I'll do it."

Mother seemed to shimmer, her form brightening slightly as if she were smiling. Her droplets swirled around you, a gentle, swirling dance of liquid light like she was encouraging you, cheering you on.

Your thumb moved over the phone screen, almost of its own accord, and you found Netero’s name again, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through—calm but expectant as if he had known you would call back.

“Y/N?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steeling yourself, and then spoke, your voice steady. “Where is he?”

You stepped off the airship, choosing to take a more grounded approach this time. It had been so long since you walked among society; today, you wanted to feel the earth beneath your feet and hear the noise of life all around you. Normally, you would have flown in on Khan, your Seraphrid—a creature resembling a winged horse, only larger and more formidable, a loyal companion since your youth. But today felt different.

As expected, Khan had already beaten you here. His sleek, black form stood tall among the trees, his six powerful legs moving with an elegance that defied his size. His head was turned in your direction, and the two long, string-like antennae that served as his natural bridle extended, sensing your presence. They wrapped around your arm, their touch gentle but firm, syncing with the veins on the underside of your wrist. The bond was immediate, an ancient connection that required no words.

With a familiar pull, you mounted him, his raised hoof serving as a stepping stool, an unspoken offer only the two of you understood. You clicked your tongue softly, a signal you’d always used, and he responded with a low, rumbling neigh that resonated through your bones.

Khan didn’t need instructions. He read your intentions through the link you shared, feeling the subtle shifts in your thoughts and emotions. He began to trot into the dense forest, guided by your thoughts alone, the rhythm of his steps matching the cadence of your heartbeat.

Netero had informed you that the young man, the one you were to meet, was training in these woods. He had given you the young man’s contact information, though he had been elusive with any real details. When you had pressed for more information, Netero had only chuckled, his words tinged with mystery: “You’ll see...”

Typical of him to leave you to uncover the truth on your own, to dig up the bone yourself, like always. As Khan weaved through the thick underbrush, you found yourself wondering about this boy. What was it about him that had made Netero reach out to you after all this time? What was so special that it warranted pulling you back into this world?

The dense forest began to thin, opening into a sun-dappled clearing. Khan slowed to a gentle canter, his antennae twitching as if sensing something ahead. You felt it too—a presence, quiet yet intense, like a heartbeat echoing through the trees.

This had to be the place. As you dismounted, Khan’s gaze remained fixed forward, his body tense and alert. You patted his side, reassuring him, and he relaxed slightly, though his eyes never wavered from whatever lay beyond the clearing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar stir of curiosity and something deeper—something that felt like the whisper of purpose reigniting within you. Stepping forward, you moved into the clearing, ready to meet the young man Netero had sent you to find, ready to face whatever awaited you on the other side.

You dismounted slowly, your feet sinking into the damp earth as the coolness of the soil crept up through your boots, grounding you in the present moment. The clearing before you stretched wide, dappled sunlight breaking through the thick canopy above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, a living, breathing presence around you. Khan stood tall beside you, his powerful form coiled with restrained energy, his antennae twitching in tune with the undercurrent of tension that rippled from you like a stone dropped in water.

Ahead, the low murmur of voices reached your ears, punctuated by the rhythmic clack of wood striking wood and the sharp rustle of leaves disturbed by quick, deliberate movements. You moved forward slowly, cautiously, each step bringing the sounds into sharper clarity. As you reached the edge of the clearing, you paused, taking in the scene before you.

Two figures moved with practiced grace, their forms entwined in a dance of combat, their bodies speaking a language of strength and discipline. One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, had a presence that radiated intensity and control—Izunavi, a hunter you had known from years ago. His sharp, unwavering gaze and the calm precision of his movements marked him as a hunter, one who had taught countless others the art of survival.

But it was the boy who drew your attention.

He was younger than you had imagined, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo, his eyes narrowed in concentration, a fierce determination burning in their depths. His posture was taut, muscles coiled and ready, every motion calculated and precise as he mirrored Izunavi’s steps, his gaze never faltering, never leaving his mentor for even a heartbeat. His body moved with the grace of a predator, but there was a tension there—a rawness, a desperation that was almost painful to watch.

So this was Kurapika.

Your breath caught in your throat. It was like staring into a ghost, a specter of who you had once been—a younger self, with that same consuming fire, that same drive, that same reckless need to prove something to a world that had never shown mercy. You recognized the look in his eyes immediately. You had seen it in your reflection, in the faces of those you had saved and those you had failed. The beast of burden lay heavy in his gaze, the weight of vengeance familiar darkness that seemed to clutch at his very soul.

He was still a child. Just as you had been—a child thrust into a world too cruel and too vast, carrying a burden too heavy for shoulders so young. You lingered in the shadows, your heart tightening in your chest, a sense of foreboding curling in your gut. Finally, you decided to step forward, your presence pressing through the air like a ripple in still water.

Izunavi’s movements stilled. He sensed you first, his eyes flickering toward you, his expression a mask of calm neutrality, though you saw the faint recognition behind his eyes. His stance eased, a subtle acknowledgment. Kurapika followed his gaze, turning to face you, and the intensity of his scrutiny hit you like a blow—a look so piercing it seemed to strip away layers, searching, demanding answers before he even spoke.

“Master,” Izunavi greeted, his tone respectful but carrying a hint of something harder beneath. "Netero told me you might be dropping by."

"Y/N," you corrected, voice soft but firm. Each syllable felt heavy in your mouth, burdened by the memories of your past. You inclined your head slightly, stepping fully into the clearing, moving with purpose, though a knot tightened in your stomach. "It’s been a while, Izunavi," you said, your voice sounding almost foreign to your ears. "I see you’ve taken on another pupil."

Izunavi nodded. "One with a special kind of determination," he replied, a note of pride softening his otherwise stern demeanor. He glanced at Kurapika, who stood like a coiled spring, ready to snap. "Kurapika, this is Y/N L/N—once known as Master Hunter, The Great Hunter, the Hound of the Hunters… too many names to count."

Kurapika’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of your name. Recognition flickered across his features—his expression shifting from curiosity to something deeper, something darker. You could almost see the thoughts racing behind his gaze, the questions forming, and the curiosity and anger mingling in a storm of emotion.

Netero had left you a note from the first examiner of the 287th Hunter Exam: "Kurapika Kurta said he wishes to become a Hunter to exact revenge on the Phantom Troupe and seek aid from the Master Hunter." The Phantom Troupe, a name you had only heard in passing, a whisper of a threat, a gang too small to matter back then. But now, seeing Kurapika’s face, you realize how much had changed and how much you had missed.

“Where were you that day?” Kurapika’s voice was low but steady, each word laced with a simmering rage that seemed barely contained. "I read stories about you... Master Hunter, the one who made crime vanish like mist before the sun. When my people were slaughtered, I didn’t fear, because I knew—you would come. You would hunt them down for me."

The pain in his voice was like a knife twisting in your chest. “I waited years for you! Held onto that hope until I had no choice but to become the hunter I needed.”

His voice cracked, but the fury within it did not waver. "You let them walk this earth after what they did to me... to my people." His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white, his breath ragged. And then you saw it—the flash of scarlet behind his gray contacts, the burning rage of his clan's curse, the anger and grief all mixed into one volatile storm.

A lump formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard against it. The weight of his accusation bore down on you like a physical force. In your absence, the world had shifted and twisted, and you had been powerless to stop it. You had lost your Nen that day, the day you had lost everything.

That’s why you weren’t there.

The same beast of burden now latched onto him had once latched onto you. You had failed him, and his words cut deep into whatever was left of your fractured soul. If only you had known... If only you had hunted them when they were small, a mere whisper of a threat. If only…

But you hadn’t. And now you were facing the result of that failure.

Your silence hung heavy in the air. You felt the burn in your eyes, the sting in your throat, and the weight of every decision and every choice you had made that led to this moment. There was nothing you could say to erase the pain in his eyes—the sense of betrayal that seemed to radiate from him like heat.

Kurapika's expression hardened, his jaw tightening, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I need justice,” he said, his voice colder now, like a blade drawn against a stone.

You drew a deep breath, fighting against the rising tide of emotion within you. “Justice is a fine line, Kurapika,” you replied quietly, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “And revenge can blur it until you don’t know which side you’re on.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes burning with a mixture of fury and something deeper—something fragile and almost broken. He turned away, shoulders tense, his footsteps heavy, as if carrying the weight of the world on his back. A part of you wanted to reach out, to stop him, to pull him back from the edge. But you knew better than to force it. He had to find his way, just as you had.

“Kurap-” Izunavi began, his voice edged with concern, but you raised a hand, silencing him. Your eyes remained on Kurapika’s retreating form, watching as he disappeared into the trees, swallowed by the shadows.

“Let him go,” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. "I’ll talk to him later... once he’s cooled off."

Izunavi hesitated but finally nodded, trusting your judgment. You stared into the forest where Kurapika had vanished, the weight of his words still heavy on your heart. You knew that if he continued on this path, it would lead only to more pain and more loss. You weren’t sure you could bear to watch someone else descend into the same darkness that had swallowed you whole.

You had to try for his sake and yours.

“How far is he in his Nen?” you asked, breaking the stillness. Izunavi turned, his expression solemn.

“He's a determined, quick learner, but he’s already made those terrible vows for his Nen ability. It’s been five months since he started, and he’s planning something for September 1st.”

Next month, you thought. Not much time. “Is it related to the Troupe?”

“Positive.” Izunavi’s response was immediate; his voice edged with tension.

You sighed deeply, feeling the familiar heaviness in your chest. Another lost child, another soul standing at a precipice. The memory of the children from Meteor City flickered in your mind—those small, eager faces filled with both mischief and hope. Even now, you could remember the way they looked up to you, their eyes wide with wonder and something more—something like belief.

Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks—all those troublemakers who had once felt like yours in some way despite being the same age. You had often wondered where they were now, how life had treated them, and if they had stayed on the path you had hoped for them. Maybe, when all of this was over, you’d find them again. Just to see. Just to know.

Izunavi’s voice pulled you back. “His vows are monstrous, Y/N. I don’t know what he sacrificed, but his chains are still out of control. He’s powerful, but he can’t command them yet.”

“Chains?” You repeated, an eyebrow arching in surprise. “That’s his ability?”

Izunavi nodded gravely. “Yes. He wants to bind the spiders to hell with them.”

A small, amused laugh slipped past your lips, as that did sound like something he would say. Then your expression turned serious. “Izunavi… I’ve lost my Nen. If I decide to teach this boy, will you be my eyes?”

Izunavi blinked, momentarily stunned, but he quickly nodded, his gaze steady and filled with a new understanding. “I will,” he promised softly. “But... are you ready for this?”

You took a breath, the weight of your own words settling within you. “I wasn’t Netero’s best hunter just because of my Nen.”

You could still feel Nen, even Mother’s Nen whenever she came to you, like a whisper at the back of your mind, a gentle reminder of the power that once flowed through you like a river. You hadn’t lost your instincts—if anything, losing your Nen had sharpened them. It was like losing a sense and gaining another. You could feel things now, in ways that other Nen users couldn’t—like sensing the shift in the air before a storm.

Izunavi hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice a little softer, a little more unsure. “Y/N, you can do it? Teach him? With your Nen gone…?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I can.”

Izunavi seemed to consider your words, then nodded again, more firmly this time. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be your eyes.”

Your gaze drifted toward the direction where Kurapika had stormed off, your thoughts tangled with the past and the present. You knew the path he was on—you had been there yourself once. And you didn’t want Kurapika to stain his hands as you had stained yours, even if it was for what you believed was “good.”

If you could help him find another way—if you could keep his hands clean, you would. You were willing to stain yours all over again for the sake of keeping him from the blood that had already marked too many lives.

You had to operate in his shadow. Teaching Kurapika while also trying to beat him to the Phantom Troupe would be no easy task—especially if you had to do it behind his back. There was still so much you didn’t know. The years you spent disconnected from society left gaps in your knowledge. You couldn’t deny it, and the thought made you clench your fist. At least you could still rely on the physical strength of the L/N bloodline—but even that might not be enough. What if the Phantom Troupe’s Nen abilities were stronger than you anticipated? If they were all together, no matter how much experience you had, they could easily overwhelm you by sheer numbers.

What if you couldn’t protect Kurapika? The thought sent a shiver up your spine.

This was a mess just waiting to explode.

Izunavi watched you quietly, sensing the shift in your mood, the old scars being reopened, and the new purpose forming in your heart. You felt the stirrings of a familiar resolve—a quiet, burning fire that refused to go out.

“Let’s start now,” you said, meeting Izunavi’s gaze with a calm but determined look. “We have until September 1st. I won’t let him fall.”

You followed Kurapika as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Shadows lengthened, and the woods grew quieter, the sounds of the day's creatures giving way to the night’s. You had given him time—enough time, you hoped—for his anger to cool and for his heart to steady. But you knew that the embers of rage didn’t die so easily; they could smolder for a long, long time.

You found him near the lake, sitting against a tree with his knees pulled up, his blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight like threads of gold. He stared blankly ahead, lost in thought, his face a mask of quiet resolve. You watched him for a moment from a distance, letting your presence be felt without imposing yourself. You knew words wouldn’t be enough—not yet, not for a boy with a fresh wound.

Slowly, you made your way toward him, moving carefully and deliberately, leaving space for him to turn you away if he chose. He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t push you away either. That, in itself, was something. You took a seat beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of you to let him feel unpressured but close enough that your presence was felt. You let the silence stretch, understanding that sometimes it was the only thing that could truly speak.

After a while, you finally broke the silence, your voice soft, almost tentative. "You want to hunt the Troupe, right?"

Kurapika didn’t move at first, his eyes still fixed on the water. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolved. “I don’t have a choice.”

The words hung between you, heavy with finality. You have heard that before, spoken in different ways by different people. It was always the same. A choice made in desperation, when the soul felt trapped by the past, by the need to correct something that could never truly be fixed.

“You always have a choice,” you replied softly, your tone neither reprimanding nor coddling. It was simply a statement of fact.

Kurapika shifted, his hands tightening around his knees. “Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, studying the lines of tension etched across his young face. He was still so young—too young for this kind of rage to live so deeply inside him. But rage wasn’t something that cared for age, wisdom, or even reason. You knew that better than anyone.

“They took everything from me,” he continued, his voice harder now, laced with bitterness. “Everything. My family, my home, my future. I can’t just let that go!”

You exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh that was lost in the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. “Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting,” you said gently. “It doesn’t mean forgiving either. But this path you’re walking... It’s not just about revenge anymore. It’s about who you become at the end of it.”

Kurapika’s eyes flicked toward you then, sharp and wary like he was expecting a lecture he’d heard a thousand times before. But you weren’t here to preach.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you clarified, your gaze still on the water, the gentle waves reflecting the dying light. “I know that’s not an option for you. But you need to be careful, Kurapika. Rage has a way of consuming everything in its path. It’ll burn through you if you’re not careful. Until there’s nothing left of the person you used to be.”

He was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. The tension in his body hadn’t lessened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was understanding.

“I can control it,” he said, his voice quieter now, but the determination in it was unmistakable. “I have to.”

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his resolve. “Control is important. But you also need balance. Power without purpose is dangerous, even to yourself.”

Kurapika frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Purpose? My purpose is to kill them.”

You turned to face him fully then, your eyes locking onto his. “And after that? What happens when they’re gone? What’s left for you?”

The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. For a moment, the hard façade he had built around himself seemed to crack, and you saw the lost boy beneath. A boy who had lost everything and didn’t know how to live without his hatred to guide him.

“That’s why I’m here,” you continued, your voice softening. “I’ve walked this path before. I know where it leads. If you’re not careful, you’ll reach the end of it and find that nothing is waiting for you on the other side. Nothing but emptiness.”

Kurapika’s hands slowly unclenched, his fingers tracing the edge of his sleeves as if grounding himself in the present moment. He didn’t say anything, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

You reached out then, gently placing your hand on his shoulder, a rare gesture of comfort. “I’m not saying this to stop you,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am saying you need to think about what comes next. After the bloodshed. After the vengeance. What will you be left with?”

Kurapika lowered his head, the weight of your words sinking in. The silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t filled with tension. It was a moment of quiet reflection.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, his voice barely audible.

You gave a small nod, squeezing his shoulder lightly before pulling your hand back. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know yet. Just... don’t lose yourself in the process.”

For a long moment, Kurapika didn’t move, his gaze fixed on the ground, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, there was a new clarity in his eyes, though the fire still burned there, too. He wasn’t ready to let go of his vengeance, but at least now he was starting to see the danger in letting it consume him completely.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than before.

You nodded again, satisfied for now. It was a start. He would need time to fully understand what you meant, but at least the seed had been planted. And as much as you wanted to protect him from the pain of the path he was walking, you knew he had to walk it for himself. All you could do was guide him along the way.

As the last traces of daylight disappeared from the sky, you stood up, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Come on,” you said, offering him a hand. “Let’s head back before it gets too dark.”

Kurapika hesitated for a moment before accepting your hand, pulling himself up to his feet. He stood beside you, his gaze lingering on the horizon for just a moment longer before he nodded, turning to follow you back toward the camp.

As you walked side by side, the soft sounds of the night surrounding you, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the weight of the future heavy between you both.

The journey was far from over...

© eyesofbong. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it. My work is only available on this platform and on AO3 under the name @eyesofbong

📖🔍HxH Themed Ask Game

Feel free to reblog and do it on your own blogs!

Character

❤️ Who is your favorite hxh character?

⛵️ What hxh ship is your favorite?

⚓️ What hxh ot3 is your favorite?

🤝 Which hxh character do you think you’d be good friends with?

🏆 Who is your hxh underrated fave?

🕷 Who is your favorite phantom troupe member and why?

🌌 Who is your favorite of the zodiac 12 and why?

👑 Who is your favorite of the princes, and why?

Hunter

💥 What would your nen type be?

⚡️ If you could have any hatsu, in-universe or fan made, what would yours be?

💳 What type of hunter would you be?

🧐 If you were a hunter exam proctor, what type of challenge would you run?

💯 What would motivate you to take the hunter exam?

📚 Who would you want to be your nen mentor?

🐜 If you were turned into a chimera ant, what animal(s) do you think you’d be?

Lore

🎣 What is your favorite hxh arc?

🃏 What three GREED ISLAND cards would you take?

🗺️ What hxh locations would you want to visit?

🐳 What are you most looking forward to seeing in the manga?

🔍 Would you want to explore the Dark Continent?

Creation

👶 Do you have any hxh OCs?

💭 What is an idea for a fic/drawing you’d like to see?

🏴‍☠️ What’s your favorite hxh AU idea?